


Rapture

by BreakfastTea



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Gen, Inspired by Everybody's Gone to the Rapture, Inspired by a videogame, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Star Trek Beyond Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7798858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise finds a deserted world trapped in a single moment of time. The people are gone, and yet a single life-form remains, full of the memories of the lost. Understanding the nature of the pattern may be impossible, but Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise aren't about to back down from the challenge. Or are they? Could they have discovered a form of life so unlike anything they've ever encountered, it's too dangerous to explore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rapture

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the videogame [Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1tBl7upgDU). It’s such a quietly powerful game. I’ve played it through twice and been wrecked both times. You absolutely do not need to have played the game to appreciate this story, but if you can get your hands on it, I can’t recommend it enough. If you aren’t a gamer, [the soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w40whIS7dNE&list=PLhPp-QAUKF_hRMjWsYvvdazGw0qIjtSXJ) will give you a good feel for the game. It’s stunningly emotive. 
> 
> There are spoilers for the game, so if you want to play and haven’t, come back later. If you aren't likely to play, read on. I've styled this like an episode, and I like to think I've written it in a way that makes sense even if you haven't played the game. I have essentially used the medium of Star Trek to explore my interpretation of Everybody's Gone to the Rapture.

“We’re in orbit, Captain,” Sulu called from the helm. “I’m not picking up any satellites or other orbital debris.”

“On screen,” Kirk ordered.

“Aye,” Sulu said.

A huge planet appeared ahead of them all. It wasn’t entirely dissimilar to Earth, although its level of development couldn’t compare.

“Any evidence of warp capability?” Kirk asked.

Several voices across the bridge gave a negative.

“Alright, this could be observation only. Let’s not upset Command by breaking the Prime Directive,” Kirk said.

“It is a Class M planet, however I cannot detect any lifesigns,” Spock said. “There is an unusually large amount of photonic energy on the surface. From what I can ascertain from preliminary readings, each source of energy has a unique signature. Fascinating.”

“I’m picking up radio chatter,” Uhura said. “It’s like a chorus of voices. I can’t make sense of it. Hold on. I’ll try to clear up the signal.” Her hands flew over her station, flipping switches and twirling knobs. “She says they’re together,” she said. “The people. Every one of them, together with the people they wanted to be with, forever in the light.”

“There isn’t a single living being on the surface,” Spock said.

“She?” Kirk asked Uhura, ignoring the thread of unease Spock’s reminder sent through his stomach.

“There’s a woman’s voice. It’s coming through over all the others. She calls the light ‘the pattern’. She says she’s the only one left, but she isn’t responding to hails. I can pinpoint the transmission,” Uhura said.

“Do it,” Kirk said.

“It’s dancing.” Chekov pointed at the viewscreen. “Look, on the nightside of the planet. You can actually see it.”

“It made a mistake,” Uhura murmured. “The pattern. It’s life, but not as we know it. Not as this world knew it.”

“Based on these readings, it would seem unlikely that organic matter could withstand long term exposure,” Spock said.

“What happened to everyone?” Kirk asked Uhura. “Does the pattern know?”

“I’m not sure I’m communicating with it. It’s not speaking with its own voice. I think it’s using the voices of the people who used to live here.” Uhura pressed a hand to her head. “The woman’s voice says to go down and see.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ah. Sorry. I’m –” A trickle of blood dribbled from her nostrils. She tugged her earpiece out. “It’s too loud.” She bent double in her chair, cradling her head. “Ah!”

Kirk was at her side. “Uhura?”

“Headache,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ve never had anything like it.”

The nosebleed worsened. Uhura tried to staunch it with her hands. Kirk reached over her and activated the internal communication system. “Bridge to sickbay. Bones, I need you up here.”

“On my way.”

With her own sleeve heavily saturated, Kirk offered Uhura his own.

“Thank you.” She tried to compose herself, but the ashen tone of her skin and the deep frown marring her forehead betrayed her. “Shut down the external communications line. The pattern – it’s too much for our systems. They’ll burn out.”

Jim flipped the switches and saw the channel to the planet shut down. “Okay, it’s done.”

“Great. I’m not sure, but I don’t think it can penetrate our systems so long as they’re locked down. The voices.” She pressed his sleeve tighter to her gushing nose. “There were so many voices.”

Kirk felt her blood seep through his shirt. “Don’t worry about it right now. The ship’s safe. Let’s make sure you’re alright.”

“Okay.” She kept her eyes closed, her forehead resting on Kirk’s arm. “Sorry about your shirt.”

“Forget it. Rest. Bones will be here soon.” The bridge’s doors slide back and McCoy entered, medkit in hand. “Speak of the devil.”

McCoy ignored him and crouched at Uhura’s side. Once McCoy had some gauze ready, Jim removed his sleeve and gave them some privacy. He looked at the viewscreen, at the planet, the daytime side that resembled Earth, and the night-time side where light danced. If something down there could hurt his people through their communication network, could he justify sending an away team?

“Good to go?” McCoy’s voice drew Kirk’s attention back to the bridge.

“Yes, I can walk.”

McCoy supported Uhura off the bridge. Her replacement slipped into the communication station’s vacated seat. Spock glanced up at Kirk. Kirk nodded. If Spock wanted to stop by sickbay later, Kirk wouldn’t stop him. Right now though, they needed to investigate the planet. It was there, waiting for someone to explain why it was empty.

And why it had caused Uhura to fall ill so suddenly.

After gaining assurances that the planet itself was hospitable to organic life, provided they avoided prolonged contact with the pattern, Kirk agreed to lead a landing party to the surface. They would have to take a shuttle; nothing Scotty or Chekov did could make the transporters work.

“Sulu, you’re with me. Spock, I want two science officers on the mission, send whoever you think is best. And maintain constant scans of the planet’s surface. Alert us of any changes, but otherwise keep communications with the surface to a minimum.”

“Understood. We will monitor the pattern’s behaviour.”

“Good. Forward the coordinates Uhura found to Sulu. We’ll being our investigation there.”

Kirk and Sulu left the bridge. Kirk paused on his way to the shuttlebay to change his shirt. Dumping the stained top into the laundry shoot, Kirk left his quarters and hurried to the shuttlebay. He put in a call to security and had his chief supply two officers with solid biology and physics backgrounds. If they had to work fast to keep themselves from suffering ill effects, Kirk wanted the right people searching for the right evidence to solve the planet’s mystery.

He reached the shuttlebay moments behind the security officers. They boarded the shuttle together. Sulu was already in his seat, going through the pre-launch sequence. With everybody aboard, Kirk gave permission to go.

It was a short trip to the surface. Using the coordinates of the communication Uhura had picked up, Sulu landed them outside a small town. Quaint and old-fashioned, there were a number of two-store buildings surrounding a townsquare where a water fountain burbled and a children’s park sat undisturbed. Everything was usable, in perfect condition.

Except there was no one around. No one to talk to. No one approached the shuttle. No one stuck their head out a door or a window. The town outside remained utterly still.

“Captain,” Sulu said, eyes on the shuttle’s instruments. “There’s something strange here. Look at the time.”

Kirk looked. It was frozen. He grabbed his tricorder out of the pouch on his hip. It too had stopped telling time. He watched the away team check their own devices. Nobody’s clock worked.

“Time isn’t moving,” Sulu said. “How is that possible?”

“I have no idea.” Kirk flipped his communicator open. “Kirk to _Enterprise_.”

“ _Enterprise_ here.” It was Spock.

Relief fizzled in Jim. They could still contact the ship. Good. “Any indication up there that time isn’t moving on the planet?”

“That is an impossibility, Captain.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Kirk said. “We’re only going to stay here for an hour, but we’ll need a reminder.”

“Explain.”

“Time isn’t passing down here, at least not in any way we can measure. All our clocks have frozen.”

“A technical problem?”

“Negative. Any sign of the pattern?”

“As we are unable to determine which photonic reading is specific to the pattern, I cannot say.”

“Understood. We’ll investigate further. Kirk out.” He turned his attention to the away team. “Investigate the local area. We don’t have long so we’ll split up. We’re searching for some sign of biological life, and any indication about what the pattern did to this world.” He activated the shuttle’s internal screen and brought up a map of the town. He designated each person an area to explore. “If you start to feel unwell at any time – headache, nosebleeds, anything like that – return to the shuttle immediately and alert the rest of the team. Otherwise, you have an hour.”

Sulu opened the hatch. Kirk stepped out, followed by the others. No one spoke. It didn’t feel right. Warm air and summer sunshine embraced the away team like they’d missed the opportunity to do so. Tricorders out, they went their separate ways. Kirk walked rapidly. He wanted to see as much as possible in the short time available.

Trapped in a single moment of time, the planet was an idyllic paradise doomed to never change, never move on, never truly live again. The town was small, beautiful countryside visible just on the horizon. It reminded him of a frontier town, albeit one made cosy and welcoming. It threw him back into memories of a childhood spent running through Iowan fields.

Wind whispered through the trees and the grass. The scent of sweet wildflowers drifted through the summer breeze. Kirk walked past abandoned homes, shops and offices, deserted ground vehicles, forgotten toys. He had to watch his step; dead creatures resembling birds littered the roads. They must’ve fallen out of the sky. Kirk crouched down and scanned a corpse. It was fresh. Recently dead.

It must’ve died the moment time sealed itself in this instant.

Standing straight, Kirk looked down the street. He saw something. An orb of light danced ahead. Golden, glittering, and crackling with energy, it chased around the abandoned vehicles in the street. He tried to scan it, but the tricorder was completely overwhelmed. It died a dramatic, sparking death. Shaking his scalded hand, Kirk jammed the dead device in his pocket and approached the light.

As if sensing it had a visitor, the light stopped its dance and hovered ahead of him. “Are you the pattern?” Kirk asked.

The light rotated, gaining sped and sound. It twirled around him, chasing its own tail in its eagerness. Voices cut through the silence, wisps and snatches of words and noise. Kirk reached out to touch it. Ribbons spewed out of the orb. Day faded into night. The heavens lit up over his head, the stars like nothing he’d ever known. He could see an entire galaxy over his head. Dizzied and awed, its incandescent beauty drove him to his knees. It seemed as though space would swallow him whole, and yet the world remained around him, shrouded in impenetrable darkness.

The light he’d touched took on two humanoid forms. Flecks of light were held together by glittering golden ribbons. People made of starlight walked past him.

“ _The science is like nothing I’ve ever seen,_ ” a female voice said. Her form sparked brightly as her voice emerged. “ _It’s alive, if not by our standards. But it didn’t mean to harm us. It’s –”_

_“Didn’t mean to harm us?”_ a deeper voice spluttered from the second figure. “ _People are either disappearing from their homes or they’re dying in the streets! We can’t treat them. The second someone displays symptoms, it’s already too late. You have to break off contact. It’s spreading through the communications network in the town. It’s hurting us. If you don’t cut it off –”_

“ _Break off contact? Tell it to stay away and condemn it to spend its life in the depths of space_?” the woman shot back. _“If I do that –”_

_“The people who aren’t ill yet will live!”_ Kirk saw the male figure grab the female figure’s hands. “ _Please. Please, you have to stop this while there’s still time.”_

She tugged her hands free. _“What of the pattern? It’s come so far, travelled through the unimaginable vastness of space, and it found us. It found_ me _. I’ve spent my whole life looking to the stars, and finally I’ve proven we’re not alone in the universe.”_

_“At what cost?”_ the man demanded. “ _My mother’s gone. I went to check on her this morning. She called me, said she felt awful, that she couldn’t stop herself from bleeding. But when I got there, it was too late. All I could find was ash, like something had burned up in her bedroom._ ”

“ _What? No, no, the pattern wouldn’t kill. It doesn’t –”_

_“It’s an alien. We have no idea what it is, and it doesn’t know what it’s doing to us.”_

_“It’s scared._ ”

“ _Oh, it’s scared, is it? We’re dying! My mother is gone!”_

The woman turned her back on him.

_“It has to be stopped. If we shut down the observatory, if we cut its lines of communication –”_

_“No! I won’t do it. I won’t abandon it._ ”

“ _If you don’t, we’ll all be killed, don’t you see that?”_

_“That isn’t what’s happening._ ”

“ _You are blind! Wilfully blind!_ ” The man reached forward and grabbed the woman. _“Come to the town hall. You see the people in there. Tell me they aren’t dying.”_

He yanked her and they marched away. The universe overhead faded away, replaced again by the perfect summer’s day. The light gathered itself and shot away. Kirk watched it disappear into a large, central building. The town hall? The doors remained open. He picked himself off the ground and ran toward the light. He had to know. He had to see.

On his way, he crashed into another light, another life, another memory.

The light took the shape of two small people. The smaller one clung onto the older one’s arm.

_“I want to head up to the city. If I go now, before the adults notice, I’ll be okay._ ” He sounded young, idealistic. “ _Will you cover for me_?”

“ _You’d leave me here?”_ She sounded younger still. A child. _“Mother and father are ill! I can’t take care of them without you.”_

The taller one placed his hands on the smaller figure’s shoulders. _“I can get help! If I go now, maybe there’ll still be time.”_

_“Please,”_ the littler child said. “ _Please don’t leave me here. My head hurts, and –”_

_“I have to.”_ The taller figure stepped back. “ _Don’t worry. I’ll get to the city. I’ll get help. You won’t have time to miss me, I’ll be back that quick!”_

He ran off into the distance. The smaller figure watched him go. Kirk watched as the child raised a hand to her face. He heard her strangled sob.

“ _I’m bleeding_.”

The child collapsed to the ground. Kirk’s instinct was to catch her, help, but she faded, the ribbons holding her together breaking away. Her light drifted into the sky, indistinguishable from the stars. Day returned again. Kirk steeled himself and went into the town hall before he could talk himself out of it.

The smell of sickness hit him the moment he crossed the threshold. He gagged. Blood and bile stained the air. Yanking his shirt over his mouth and nose, Kirk stepped into a large hall. It had been converted into a makeshift hospital. Every cot was bloodstained. Trash cans overflowed with bloodied tissues. The stench made his eyes water. Dust danced around him, spiralling around specks of light. The ball of light he’d followed into the building rushed over to him, eager to tell its tale.

“If you’re not the pattern, who are you?” he asked.

The past once again stole the daylight. Kirk realised there could be no interaction with the light. All it could do was show him the people whose lives it had stolen. Their memories, their experiences, were all that remained.

Figures made of ribbons of light surrounded him. Many were curled up on the beds. Others milled around them. He heard the ghostly sounds of moans, coughs and vomiting. Kirk couldn’t move. He could only stare at the sight of so many forms made of light, some large, some tiny, all of them dying.

A familiar voice spoke up. “ _It just didn’t want to be alone anymore,”_ the woman said. “ _It must’ve seen the light of our world and thought we were the same._ ”

“ _We aren’t. It can’t stay. You’re the only one who can cut if off before it’s too late. We still have a chance. It hasn’t spread beyond the town yet. If we shut down the observatory, it won’t be able to use the communication network to spread_. _There’s still time._ ”

Kirk watched the female figure hunch in on herself. _“I can’t do it. I can’t cut it off. It’s a life-form. Imagine if it was you. Imagine you’d been alone for millennia, only to have the first people you find toss you back out into the void_?”

“ _You sound as though it’s a child. It’s a hostile life-form, and it’s –”_

A terrible shriek filled the room as a globe of light raced into the room. Kirk clapped his hands over his ears. It was like nails dragged over glass. He backed away, but the memory played on.

Like the others before them, the sick faded away. One by one, they became starlight.

“ _No, no, no_ ,” the man whispered. “ _No, this can’t be happening._ ”

“ _It’s able to manifest here_ ,” the woman said. “ _It knows I’m here. I’m going back to the observatory. I shouldn’t have left,_ ” the woman said, apparently unshakable. “ _I can communicate with it. I can explain what it’s doing, and why it has to stop._ ” She ran out of sight.

The man stayed behind. Kirk watched the figure made of light shake and sob. “ _It’s too late. It’s all over._ ”

The pattern, or the memory of it, hung over the man. He looked up. “ _You might not mean to, but you’re killing all of us_. _You’re –”_ His words came to a strangled end. “ _Merciful gods, I see them. I see all of them._ ”

And just like the sick, the ribbons released the orbs of light making up his body and he faded into the light.

The past ended. Shadows rushed past the windows as night gave way to instant day. The dust remained, but the orbs of light were gone.

Just like all those people.

Nauseous, Kirk headed back out into the open. He rubbed his wet eyes and cleared his throat. Emotions gathered and subsequently crushed into the smallest of balls, he flipped his communicator open. “Kirk to _Enterprise_. Have you picked up an observatory in the vicinity of the shuttle’s landing area?”

Chekov confirmed there was an installation two kilometres north. Kirk informed the rest of the away team and immediately ran to find it. As he did, more lights coalesced into the memories of a lost people. He heard their lives, their joy and their sadness. Their hope for their futures, their love for family and friends, their desperation to live, their fear of the sickness sweeping through their village.

“ _Somebody help me! Please, it won’t stop bleeding_!”

“ _We’re going to be okay. We always endure._ ”

“ _I can’t find my baby. Has anyone seen her? She was in her cot. She’s too small to go anywhere. Where is she?”_

_“The phones aren’t working.”_

_“There’s so much ash.”_

_“I’m going to go into space someday!”_

_“I’m here. I’m taking care of you, okay?”_

_“Did you hear the voices coming out of the light?”_

“ _The sky last night was just beautiful!”_

Kirk raced through the glittering dregs of their existences. Because as beautiful and peaceful as this world was, it was a time capsule. No one remained. No one lived. The people had encountered the pattern, and they’d faded away with no way to save themselves.

He reached the observatory. It stood on the top of a hill, a long flight of winding stairs leading past four power stations and up to its door. Bolts of light flickered silently from the towers, weaving up to the observatory. The gate was shut, but a globe of light hovered just ahead of it. He reached out. The light exploded. Day faded. Impossible, beautiful night returned. He saw the golden ribbons form the shape of a woman. The pattern hung over her head.

“ _Nobody else understands_ ,” she said. “ _You’ve travelled so far to reach us. Come across so many lightyears. You don’t want to be alone anymore. That’s why you’re gathering them, isn’t it? It’s why you’re taking everyone. So you won’t be alone, and so they won’t have to be alone, either. Because they’re not gone if they’re in the light. Not really. At least, that’s what I hope._ ” She laughed. _“Even after all of this, I’m still not sure._ ”

The woman made of light pushed against the gate. Her glowing form passed through. Kirk climbed over and followed. Light guided his path, tiny orbs drifting up from the ground into the universe above. Kirk kept his eyes locked onto the glowing memory of a woman in front of him. If he didn’t, he’d surely drift away.

“ _Life is not an easy thing to define. What I consider life, what everyone on this planet considers life, doesn’t include the pattern. It isn’t corporeal. It isn’t organic. It doesn’t require nutrients. It cannot reproduce. But it does communicate. Using our radios and computers, I have made contact. It’s how I know why it came here. It’s why I’ve come back here, even though my head wants to explode and the nosebleeds are constant. It’s too late for any kind of solution. We will not, according to our paltry understanding of life, survive._ _If I’m right about what the pattern is, I’m not speaking to myself right now, but instead leaving a story behind._ ” Her voice was light but warm. “ _If the pattern found us, others will, too. They will walk across our world and find the light. In my own way, I am calling out into the darkness of space and hoping I am heard. Because in that light, we will be remembered, and visitors will see us. Meet us._ ”

The woman walked on, closing in on the observatory at the top of the hill. Light descended from the sky. Was that how the pattern had arrived here? Streams of effervescent light swirled around Kirk, spurring him onwards. He could hear it, the buzz and spark of the pattern. He reached the top of the stairs and saw the observatory ahead of him, a massive telescope pointed up to the beautiful sky. The door was open, pitch black darkness within. The woman paused in the doorway.

“ _If this is our extinction event, I can think of worse ways for a civilisation to fall_.”

She went inside. Kirk gave himself a moment. He drank in the sight of the observatory, glowing against the backdrop of an entire galaxy. He bathed in its light. His hand went to his communicator, but he let it go.

He went in.

A single chair sat ahead of the telescope. In front of that was a radio sat atop a desk. Kirk watched as the woman’s ethereal form sat down. As she did so, her glow revealed the ground beneath her. Complex mathematical formulae covered it. From what he could tell, it was complex navigational work. Without his tricorder, he couldn’t record it. He rummaged through the desk and turned up a marker. He crammed as much of the information as he could onto his arms.

The woman spoke up as Kirk wrote. “ _I know that I’m the only one left. There’s no one else now. I’ve tried calling people in the town, and I’ve tried friends who live beyond its borders. Nothing. Nobody is answering. It’s just me and the pattern, and soon, I’ll just be a memory, too._ ” She laughed tearfully. “ _I thought I’d want to fight this. I thought I’d do anything to live, but the pattern has shown me all that it is, and I am ready. I understand that there is more to the definition of life than I can comprehend. I am choosing this. But the people here…”_ She paused. Her head dropped. “ _The people of this whole world didn’t. I’m the one who found the pattern. I’m the one who used our radios to call it down. I know I’m to blame for their suffering and losses, but if I understand the pattern correctly, they will live on in the light. It saw them, it took them, and it will allow them to live on, in some way or another, together._ ”

The pattern gathered itself over her. Kirk stared at it. It danced. The edges reached out to the woman. She lifted herself out of the chair.

“ _Life is not eternal. We are leaving this world, but we will not be forgotten. Maybe what comes next, within the pattern, is just a dream, but we are leaving behind footprints that cannot be erased. I feel silly, talking aloud to myself like this, but the pattern assured me I’ll be remembered. I’ll be heard, by everyone else that comes to my world. I will, by a different set of laws, live._ ”

She reached up her arms.

“ _The pattern needed to be found, and I am the one who helped it find a world. A home. I couldn’t send it back into the emptiness of space. I couldn’t. And now it’ll never be alone again_.” She drew a breath strangled with emotion. _“And neither will I_.”

Her light spread out and joined with the pattern. As her body lost its shape, Kirk found himself bathed in starlight. It surrounded him. He watched until it all faded, until the night of memory faded and the eternal summer’s day reclaimed the observatory. The only sounds to hear were the gentle brush of the breeze and his own ragged breathing.

Kirk braced himself on the chair. It was still warm. He squeezed his eyes shut. His communicator chimed in his pocket. Shaking himself, he pulled it out and answered the call. “Kirk here.”

“ _Captain, you are twenty minutes late for the rendezvous._ ” It was Sulu. He sounded uncharacteristically sombre, his voice washed out. “ _Do you require assistance_?”

“No.” He pushed himself upright. “No, I’m sorry. I’m on my way back.”

“ _Sir. We found…”_ Sulu released a breath. _“We found the light.”_

“And the people?”

“ _It’s all that’s left of them_.” Sulu was incredibly professional, but something had bothered him. “ _I’ve seen the afterimages of people who tried to outrun the light, this pattern, but it seems as though it vaporised them._ ”

“Yeah.” Kirk held a hand to his eyes. How obvious would his tears be to the away team? “I know.”

“ _We’re standing by at the shuttle_.”

“I’m on my way. Kirk out.”

He snapped the communicator shut and dropped it in his pocket. He backed away from the telescope, little drops of liquid light swimming around him. The light he had followed was gone, dispersed. Would it coalesce for other visitors in the future, set to retell a woman’s story over and over? Kirk didn’t know.

He wasn’t sure he understood her reasoning. Would he sacrifice life as he knew it for an entire planet for the sake of alien life? The people of this world, or at least the memories he had encountered, had not died peacefully. They had not accepted their fate as this one woman had. They hadn’t understood what was happening. Maybe they hadn’t known.

Kirk abandoned the observatory. He walked away from it all. He descended back into the town, mind chewing over the woman’s actions. He saw other orbs of light in the distance, bobbing and wafting in the endless summer’s day. He paused, taking in the fields and the buildings and the total absence of life as he knew it.

What the pattern had done to this world didn’t sit right with him. Not at all.

But was there a chance the woman was right? Was everyone still in the light? Kirk didn’t know if there was a way to find out.

***

The mood was sombre in the briefing room. Over the course of the day, they had confirmed that the planet existed in a single moment of time, never moving, never changing. Soil, produce and clothing samples brought back from the surface, however, decayed in seconds.

The memories, however, proved more permanent. They were all that remained of the planet’s people. Spock confirmed that the pattern was indeed a form of life unlike anything they’d ever encountered.

“It has not made any attempt to transfer itself to our ship,” Spock said. “I believe it has no intention of leaving this world. But I do not think Lieutenant Uhura communicated with the pattern directly at all. If it is conscious, then I believe it has chosen the right people’s memories to explain itself to us.”

Kirk looked to Uhura. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, thank you, sir,” she said.

“Why would it come up here?” Sulu asked. “It has a whole planet down there, full of the people it murdered.”

“Murdered is an inaccurate word for the pattern’s actions,” Spock said.

“With all due respect, Commander, I saw what it did. I saw how those people died. Barely any of them understood what it was. All they knew was sickness and fear. I found their hospital. I saw the memories of the victims and the doctors trying to treat them. The pattern caused horrific neural damage. They died in agony.” Sulu’s voice was tight, his eyes dark. “Children died in agony.”

“Good God,” McCoy murmured.

“We cannot say for certain if the people of this world are dead,” Spock said. “If they did indeed become a part of the pattern, there is a chance they live on within it. Our sensors cannot penetrate it, and our science has yet to advance to a point when we can fully understand its existence. Our communications with it are limited, and further attempts would be detrimental to health.” His eyes flicked to Uhura. “And therefore illogical.”

“This is a first,” Kirk said, striving for humour he did not feel. “Spock admitted something’s beyond understanding.”

But Sulu wasn’t in the mood. “Those people didn’t choose for the pattern to take them. They didn’t want to become memories, no more than you or I want to.”

“Outside of varying cultural practices, comparatively few people choose the way in which they die,” Spock said. “But as we cannot ascertain the true nature of the pattern, we cannot say for certain anyone is dead.”

“We can’t prove any of those people survived either,” Sulu said. His hands were on the table, poised to push himself up. This, Kirk knew, was a sign the man was on edge. A very rare occurrence in the helmsman. “If what the captain learned from the observatory is true, and the lights we followed on the world are the memories of those people, then their memories are those of people who never got the chance to live out their hopes and dreams. They didn’t choose to be trapped in some light for the rest of eternity. They were people who wanted to explore and live. There were children. Children who’ll never –” He fell silent, his jaw clenched, his throat working to hold back tears.

“The pattern is not a malevolent force. It did not come to this world with the intent of causing an apocalypse,” Spock said. “It is simply incompatible with organic life. It gives out too much radiation.”

Kirk looked to McCoy. “Did anyone on the away team suffer adverse effects?”

“No, but I can see why prolonged exposure would be a bad idea. Based on Lieutenant Uhura’s scans and the radiation levels Spock picked up on, we ran a few simulations. If you were constantly exposed over a number of days, your migraines would rapidly trigger severe auditory and visual delusions. The underlying cause would be terminal brain tumours. And that’s across all species. Nothing organic could survive long term, and none of our protective measures would be of use. We should place warning buoys around the planet, warn people off coming here.”

“If we do that, no one will ever come here to remember these people,” Kirk said. “The pattern came from the depths of space. When you witness the past, it’s –” He caught himself before the pressure in his chest and moistness in his eyes got the better of him. “Their lives are there to be rediscovered. Relived. It’s all they have left. We don’t know if they only live when there’s someone there to watch them. For all we know, we’re the first people to visit since the pattern ended the world.”

“But they aren’t actually alive,” Uhura said softly.

“Not that we can detect,” Spock said. “We lack the ability to fully understand the pattern’s nature. And without spending the necessary time here to research the pattern, we cannot learn more.”

“It’s the people we should research,” Sulu said.

“They are dead,” Spock said, blunt as ever. “There is nothing –”

“Would a long term research project be feasible?” Kirk asked McCoy before Sulu could fight back.

“I can’t recommend it,” McCoy said. “Not from a medical standpoint. Based on our projections, the pattern causes rapid tumour growth even our medicine can’t cure. This is one time when we can’t allow our curiosity to get the better of us.” He leaned back in his chair. “I know it goes against the nature of the crew, but I don’t think we can solve this one.”

“Scans from the samples brought back to the ship indicate the planet has been trapped like this for a century,” Chekov said. “Starfleet doesn’t have anything like this recorded in its database.”

“We should record as much data as our health allows,” Spock said. “We would be remiss in our duties if we did not. Exposure could be limited to three hours before away teams have to switch out.”

“Can’t recommend repeated exposure, either,” McCoy said.

“Technologically they’re centuries behind us,” Scotty said. “There’s nothing we can learn from them.”

“We could gather their stories. Record them,” Uhura said.

“And study a previously unknown life-form,” Spock said. “If it has the ability to retain the memories of an entire species, it would be well worth studying.”

“Did you mute me, or are you choosing to ignore me, Spock? Studying it will kill you,” McCoy said.

“Surely it’s better for some to survive than for your entire species to only be a memory, forced to relive the ends of their lives over and over again whenever people stop by to witness it,” Sulu said.

Everyone stared at Sulu. It was so unlike him to be so confrontation. It took Kirk a moment to fully process what he’d heard. He didn’t have a chance to speak. Spock got in first.

“Neither option is preferable, but when looked at logically, both have usable outcomes.”

“How is this usable?” Kirk asked. He wasn’t exactly disagreeing. He just couldn’t accept what had happened to this world as being _usable._ The planet was a museum. Kirk couldn’t get the people made of light out of his head. Couldn’t stop hearing the voice of a long gone, terrified child who’d been abandoned by her older brother.

_I’m bleeding._

His eyes went to Sulu, but the helmsman’s gaze was locked onto the table.

“In this case, their world is preserved,” Spock said. “We do not have to theorise what caused the end of their civilisation. They can, indirectly, tell us what happened.”

“Except their understanding is incredibly limited,” Uhura said.

“So’s ours,” Scotty said. “I’ve boosted the sensors beyond maximum tolerances, but there’s nothing else I can do.”

“Let’s assume, for a moment, that the people who knew what was happening chose to join the pattern,” Kirk said. “Would they have suffered?”

“You mean would they have been sick?” McCoy asked.

“Yeah,” Kirk said.

“Absolutely. There was no escaping it. Maybe some of ‘em were pulled into the pattern before they realised how sick they were, but organic life cannot survive any kind of long term proximity to the pattern.”

Kirk was up and pacing. “So, to summarise, an alien life-form that we do not properly understand came to this world a century ago. Some people here knew what was happening to them, even embraced it, but others, perhaps the majority, had no concept that they were sick, dying, and the end of the world as they knew it was coming.”

“Sounds right so far,” Sulu said.

“And now, we, other alien life-forms, can come by and witness all that happened here in the run up to their deaths. We can see their memories, hear their voices, know what they felt. They are a living memory made of the most beautiful light I have ever seen.” Kirk could see it now; the sky overtaken by a riot of stars and nebulae. “Their lives as we understand it are over, but they do still exist.”

“It is more than can be said of Vulcan,” Spock said. “While we live on, and our culture survives, that which was lost cannot be experienced again.”

“But what does that matter when the people are gone?” Sulu demanded. “I know there’s a chance they all live on in the pattern, but I can’t get past how they died. They had hopes and dreams. They wanted to live, but the actions of one being stopped everything. Now all they can do is relive those desires and hopes, trapped in a moment for eternity. It’s not right. It’s not fair.”

“Lieutenant, fairness is not measurable, and it is not relevant,” Spock said.

“So we should keep going down there and force those people to relive their final days?” Sulu demanded. “What if doing so forces them to feel the pain and loss over and over again? How can we inflict that kind of suffering on people?”

“We have no way to know if they are aware in the way we are, or if they are simply echoes, left behind to be witnessed by visitors.”

“Or if the pattern presents them for us to witness,” Uhura said.

“Would you be happy for tourists to swing by the last moments of Vulcan and watch those over and over?” Sulu asked.

Kirk’s eyes flicked to McCoy’s. _Shots fired._

Spock was unflappable. “As that is an impossibility, it is irrelevant to this discussion.”

“It’s a matter of compassion,” Uhura said. “We’re explorers, but at what point do we become gawkers?”

“Perhaps the crew is overly sentimental,” Spock said.

“It’s not sentiment, Spock, it’s respect,” Kirk said.

“Surely respectfulness would lead us to explore the reason the pattern came to this world.”

“What have we learned?” Kirk asked, leaping in before anyone else. Emotions were running high. The debate, if Kirk allowed it, would rage on for hours. He had to rein them all in before it descended into a shouting match. “We have an incredibly limited understanding of the pattern. We don’t know the name of this world. We can’t name a single person. There’s no one to communicate with. No one we can share knowledge with. Given their incredibly limited technology, we’re probably technically violating the Prime Directive being here.”

“We are doing that which Starfleet requires of us; seeking new life,” Spock said.

“Starfleet also has some pretty strong regulations regarding life deemed too dangerous to the crew,” McCoy said.

“What are the chances of the pattern taking us?” Kirk asked.

“Unknown,” Spock said.

There was a moment of silence. Kirk stood over his chair, leaning on the back of it. “I want to stand here and make a decision,” he told his senior staff. “I could say ‘yes, we’re leaving, it’s wrong for us to be here’.” He met Sulu’s gaze. “I am keenly aware of the loss this world suffered. I witnessed it myself.” His eyes flicked to Spock. “However, we are members of Starfleet, and we do have a duty to seek out new life. The pattern, whatever it may be, is definitely new life.”

“Scans from the ship are detailed,” Chekov said. “We are learning many things about this life-form.”

“But we would gain much more from exploring the planet itself,” Spock said.

“While being extremely mindful of the pattern’s nature,” McCoy said.

“If it came for us, I think we’d be gone before we knew it,” Kirk said, staring into space. He remembered how the people had come apart, the fragments of light making up their lives smearing and falling into the pattern. “Obviously no one was able to fight it off.”

“Yeah, and if you were exposed to it but somehow evaded capture, you’d have permanent brain damage,” McCoy said. “Except by permanent, I mean the few weeks, maybe months, you’d survive.”

“It’s a mausoleum,” Sulu said. “The whole planet is a memorial to the dead. We have to take that into consideration.”

“We cannot lose sight of our mission,” Spock said. “Your emotions are clouding your judgment, Lieutenant.”

“The equations you found at the lab, sir, were incredible,” Chekov said. Jim rubbed his arms. He’d allowed Chekov to scan his hasty handwriting into the computer for better analysis. The marker had yet to fade, and he hadn’t had time to try and wash it off. “If my calculations are correct, they relate to the pattern’s origin and the distance it travelled. It must be ancient. Older than anything ever encountered by the Federation.”

“We must study it further,” Spock said.

“We should leave this planet be,” Sulu said. “We can’t help here. It’s far too late.”

“We should try to hear what the people have to say,” Uhura said.

“Doing that could put all our lives in serious danger,” McCoy said.

“Okay.” There was a reason ships had a captain. It would be his decision, and his alone. He gazed at his senior staff. “For now, I want all your departments working on this from the ship. Chekov, see if you can plot the pattern’s course fully. We may discover its done this to other worlds, however accidentally.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Uhura, I need your people to look into how this thing communicates. The woman whose memory I followed seemed to speak with it, but I don’t know how. But don’t make direct contact again. Theories and scans only.”

“Understood.”

“Scotty, I want engineering monitoring all our systems around the clock. The pattern travelled using radio and microwaves. There’s a chance it could use our communications network to reach the ship, and if that happens, we may have no way of stopping it. I don’t want to discover if the people of this world lived on within the pattern by going into it myself.”

“Right you are, Captain.”

“Spock, continuing scanning. The pattern stopped time down there. See if your department can work out why.”

“Captain, if I may –”

“You may not, Mr Spock, not right now. We’re all too caught up in this, and while you’ve all made excellent arguments, I’m not ready to make a decision. You can send probes down to the surface and observe if you wish, but nobody, and I mean nobody, is setting foot down there again without my say so.”

Spock gave a nod, but there was a distinctly discontent set to his eyebrows. Kirk ignored it. If Spock wanted an argument, he’d hear him out later.

“Bones, is there any chance you could inoculate an away team to withstand the pattern for longer?”

“No more than I can inoculate you against foolhardiness.”

Kirk’s lips quirked. “Thanks.”

McCoy subsided. “My gut instinct is it’s not possible, but we’ll exhaust a few options before I give you a more definitive no.”

“Definitive is what I want,” Kirk said. “Sulu, I need you to work out best places to locate beacons warning people about this world. We can’t just leave them in orbit. Work out the most likely flightpaths here, and we’ll leave warnings to other vessels when we leave.”

“Captain, if we do that, there’s a chance people will never come to this world,” Uhura said. “It means everything that happened will be meaningless.”

“Death rarely has meaning,” Spock said.

“And I’m not looking to give it meaning,” Uhura said. “How could we? But the buoys should explain what happened here, explain the risk, but also tell whoever comes across them that there’s lives to be remembered here. A whole world, full of hopes and dreams.”

“I’ll take it into consideration,” Kirk said. “Alright. I know this isn’t easy for anyone, and I know that whatever decision I make will be the wrong one for some of you, but I promise I will take every scrap of tangible research you send me into consideration. Dismissed.”

They filed out, leaving Kirk alone. The door closed. He called to the computer to seal it on his authorisation. He didn’t want to be disturbed for a few moments. He walked to the nearest viewport and stared down at the world below. The words of his crew mingled with his own thoughts. His own reactions. Could they really just leave this place unexplored, its story untold?

Could he risk the lives of his crew for a story?

Could he leave a planet’s entire population alone? Allow them to be ignored? Forgotten?

And what of the pattern? Was there really any guarantee it wouldn’t leave this world and do the same to another? And if it did make a threat, what could they possibly do to stop it?

Turning his back, Kirk grabbed his PADD and got to work. If he was going to make this decision, he would do it from a position of knowledge and impartiality.

***

Kirk’s communicator chirped. He reached for it blindly. “Kirk here.”

“Captain, alpha shift began ten minutes ago,” Spock said.

“What?” Kirk looked up from his work. “Already?” He’d worked through the evening and night, not pausing for anything. His research had consumed him. The ship’s departments had sent him huge quantities of data, and he’d sifted through it, sorting it into reasons to stay and reasons to leave.

“Have you reached a decision regarding the planet?”

Kirk sat back. Had he? He’d gone over everything, balanced the physical and emotional wellbeing of the crew against Starfleet’s mandate to seek out new life. Both columns were stuffed fill of thoughts and options.

“Sir?”

“I’ll be on the bridge in twenty minutes with my final decision.”

“Understood. Spock out.”

Jim released the seal on the briefing room door and headed out. He wanted to freshen up and at least ingest some coffee before he broke the news.

In his quarters, he washed and changed into a fresh uniform. As he did, he caught sight of his arms, the inked equations that tracked an unknown form of life’s journey through space. Had it been born out there? Was born even the right word? Coalesced? Come to be? What was the right terminology? And as for its loneliness, was that truly what it felt? Did it _feel_ at all? Or was he just ascribing his own entirely human responses onto it?

So much for having a decision ready. He grumbled to himself and ran a hand through his hair in a vague attempt to bring it under control. He pulled his sleeves down over his arms, covering the temporary mathematical tattooing.

He left his quarters, grabbed a coffee from the mess hall, and went to the bridge. He stepped through the doors. Everyone turned to see him. Even McCoy was up there, standing next to Uhura. The low buzz of conversation died. Only the ship’s systems beeps and alerts sounded out. Kirk met their gazes one at a time before heading to his chair.

“Uhura, open a ship-wide channel.”

He heard the reassuring sound of her working. “Channel’s open, sir.”

He activated it, a familiar whistle piercing the quiet air. “Attention all hands. As you all know, we’ve been in orbit of a planet unlike any we’ve ever come across before. This world suffered an extinction event, unlike any other ever recorded. The people are gone, taken in by a life-form they called ‘the pattern’. All that remains of them are manifestations of memory. From the work you’ve all carried out, which I have reviewed extensively, we can deduce that these manifestations are part of the pattern itself. Our best estimate is this is how it communicates with us, by showing us the lives of the people it encountered.” He took a breath and shuffled the messy deck of his thoughts into a semblance of order. “Those of us who went down to the planet, who saw the memories captured within the light, saw a lot of death. Some of the people tried to stop what the pattern was doing, others embraced it. I think we understand that division very well ourselves.” Kirk paused and allowed his words to sink in. “I want to understand it. I want to be sure I understand what happened to the people who called this world home. But despite all our work, I have to accept that’s beyond us right now. The pattern defies our known laws of science. Studying its complexity could take lifetimes, but organic life-forms are incapable of surviving in its presence. I don’t think the pattern means to hurt, but it’s a risk I’m not willing to expose everyone aboard this ship to. Not when I can’t be sure if the pattern _means_ anything. It is a new life-form, and as such we cannot assume anything, including whether or not it is capable of emotions. As such, we will not be staying here. We will place message buoys for other ships, explaining what we know of this world. We won’t warn them off explicitly, but we will ensure anyone who follows us here is aware of the risks. I will also pass our reports and recommendations onto Starfleet Command. It could be that the Federation will develop the necessary technology to properly understand the pattern in the future, but for now, this is one mystery we’ll have to leave up to our imaginations. Kirk out.”

He closed the channel. A range of emotions shot through the crew working around him. He issued orders to them, ignored Spock’s look (which Kirk translated as _I intensely disagree with you, and I intend to argue about it at the next possible opportunity_ ), and asked Uhura to open a channel to Starfleet Command in his ready room. Once she confirmed the connection, Kirk left the bridge in Spock’s capable hands. Honestly, Kirk wanted to tell his First Officer that, given his Vulcan longevity, he was likely to survive long enough for Starfleet to find a way to study the pattern. But maybe optimism or expectation fell under the _illogical_ umbrella.

The ready room’s door closed behind him. He sat heavily at his desk. He didn’t like leaving this planet with its mysteries unanswered. If he was going to be completely honest, he longed to visit the surface once again, indulge in more memories and see the universe spread out in radiant glory. But if all his years aboard the _Enterprise_ and the _Enterprise-A_ had taught him anything, stubborn though he’d always be, it was that sometimes, mysteries were not meant to be solved. He could throw himself against it, risk lives to unravel the unknown, but some things simply had to wait.

No matter how much he hated waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! And if you have played the game, feel free to discuss the ending with me in the comments. I'm still not sure how I feel about it...


End file.
